


from italy, with love

by antoniohiggins



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 15 Plates of Boeuf Bourguignon, Abandonment, But also not, Canon Era, Christmas, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Immigration & Emigration, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secrets, chef race, it's tough man, italian!race, proposal but not really, spot conlon more like soft conlon, spot is the greatest boyfriend on the planet fight me, they cook so many times in this holy fuck, this is basically just my headcannons/au about race's life story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 04:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13380018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antoniohiggins/pseuds/antoniohiggins
Summary: this is the longest fucking thing i've ever written.i was working on this for about two months and fair warning, the word counter site i use said this should take about an hour to read so yeah enjoybasically this is the story of racetrack higgins and his life in new york from beginning to end. it's sad, it's happy, it's gay, and there's a lot of boeuf bourguignon(this is also the final chapter of my miniseries fic, but it's stand-alone so you don't need to read it first to understand. italian word translations are at the end)





	from italy, with love

It was just another day to Spot Conlon. July 20th. Just another hot-as-balls day in Brooklyn that made him wish he and his boys could afford a pair of shorts.

The problem was that July 20th wasn’t just another day to Racetrack Higgins. Or should he say,  _Antonio_.

July 20th was the day Antonio Higgins first came to Manhattan, running off the docks faster than anything fourteen-year-old Jack Kelly had ever seen. He had been selling at the docks for years and never in his life had he seen a kid like that. His wild blonde curls were flopping in the wind as a boy no older than twelve came sprinting off a boat with nothing but a small suitcase in hand.

“Hey! Kid!” Jack called out after the boy as he skidded to a halt, nervously turning around. His bright blue eyes were wide and his freckles cheeks went red in an instant. “Where ‘re ya’ running off to?”

The kid looked as if he couldn’t come up with a single word to say as his lip trembled and his eyes wandered every which way.

“I-I d-don’t know,” he stuttered out, a small tear rolling down his cheek. Jack immediately dropped his remaining stack of papes on the docks and raced to the kid’s side, crouching down to see his face.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s okay, c’mere. S’okay, just come wit’ me,” Jack spoke, taking the kid’s hand as he picked his stack of papes off the ground and led the kid back towards the Manhattan lodging house.

“Ya’ got any parents, kid?” Jack really didn’t want to push him, but the last thing he wanted to do was take some lost kid away from a family that loved him.

But the boy just shrugged. He didn’t know.

Jack felt his heart sink to his stomach.

“You sure kid? Were they on the boat wit’ ya’?”

He just shook his head and wiped away his tears with his free hand.

Jack just led the kid inside, taking his suitcase for him as he led him upstairs to an empty room full of beds. The boy looked so scared and within moments of entering the room full of bunk beds, he fell back behind Jack, terrified of the prospect of meeting all of these other kids.

“Now, this ‘s where yous’ can stay if you want. I know there’s lots’a other boys ‘ere, but don’t worry, they’s all got no families either ‘n they’s gonna be good t’ya’, I promise.”

From that day forward Antonio Higgins lived with those boys and they became his new home. After their first encounter, Jack gave him his nickname, Racetrack, and he was the only one Race ever told his story to.

He was eleven years old when his parents told him they were moving to the United States. He had grown up in Naples, Italy, the middle of seven siblings by a few years and loved them more than anything in the world. He had a good education. He was athletic, the fastest runner for miles around, and he was one of the sweetest kids you’d ever meet.

Antonio Higgins was supposed to be the last child. The youngest of his older siblings, his sister Marcella, was already sixteen and had a steady job, his older brother after her was engaged to be married soon, and his oldest sister had a baby on the way. He wasn’t anything like them.

His younger siblings were twins, both slightly unplanned and much younger than he was. They were almost six, about half his age, and they still weren’t the youngest. His youngest brother was only two and had been adopted into their family after a tragedy left his aunt and uncle dead and their only son an orphan.

He was the odd one out, but he never felt like it much until one day his parents decided they wanted to move.

Moving to the United States was common, it seemed like everyone knew someone who had moved there, but as he got older and older, he couldn’t imagine it ever happening to him. Until his mom and dad took their entire family to the immigration agency by surprise.

_“I’m sorry, but you must have a valid reason for travel to apply for this visa.”_

_“No, there isn’t any other way.”_

_“Are you sure that all of you want to move?”_

_“Well, your husband and oldest children are required to stay here for business.”_

_“Your children must be able to speak English if they are to attend school in America. Oh, only one of them?”_

_“In that case, your son seems eligible for an academic visa. Your wife could accompany him, but all of your other children would have to stay until they learn to speak English.”_

_“Okay, well if you’re sure, we have a ship traveling in a month and I can get him a ticket. Wonderful.”_

No. It was everything but wonderful. He could barely breathe as he walked alongside his family all the way home in complete silence. The moment they reached their home, he ran right into the bedroom he shared with his younger brother and curled up in the corner, unable to stop the tears from falling. It took a few minutes before he heard the soft knocking on the door. His mother timidly opened the door, a sad smile on her lips.

“Ah,  _bambino_ , come here,” she spoke in the sweet way she always did and Tony did as he was told, running up to his mother and hugging her tightly around the waist. “ _‘Tonio_ , you know why we have to do this, don’t you?”

He was terrified but nodded anyway. Yes, he knew why, but that didn’t mean he understood.

“Yes mama.”

“Okay,  _amore mio_ , you know your papa and I never want to leave you,  _voglio stare sempre con te_.” Tears filled her eyes as she held her son to her chest and broke her promise to always be there for him.

“Oh my darling, everything is going to be okay. You’ll get to live in New York! In America! And I bet you’ll find a great place to stay with someone to take care of you and you’ll go to school! Oh, Antonio, you’re going to love it!”

He couldn’t say no. He couldn’t tell his mother how badly he just wanted to stay there, in Italy, with his family. He couldn’t tell her how scared he was of the ocean and having to travel for days just to get there. He couldn’t tell her that he never wanted to go to New York. That cities were terrifying and there was nowhere for him to go running.

So he kept his mouth shut and, when the day came that he would board a boat and travel to New York City, he packed his trunk in silence and left. Everyone cried when they sent him off. Everyone but him. He had cried enough for two lifetimes by then.

And that was how he ended up in New York City, all alone, afraid, and without a family.

It took months for him to tell Jack, the one person he trusted more than anyone else in the world. He was the only one who never lied to him.

His mother’s words echoed through his head.

_“You’ll find a great place to stay with someone to take care of you and you’ll go back to school!”_

She lied.

His father had told him he’d have a better life in America. He told him that they wanted him to have the best life he could. He didn’t want to be living his parents’ dream. He wanted his own dream, but his father said it was an honor. He lied.

His older siblings told him he was lucky to be going. That they wished they could be in his place. That they loved him anyway, even though he was leaving them. They lied.

His younger siblings told him they would miss him. They wouldn’t, they were too young. In a few years time they’d have to ask mama and papa to remind them what his name was. They lied too.

So he lived with Jack Kelly and his boys. He became a newsie, one of the best ones they’d ever had. He started selling at the Sheepshead; it was Brooklyn turf, but the boys there seemed to like him.

He did grow up to enjoy it there. Manhattan eventually felt like more of a home than Italy. Sure, he still spoke Italian around the house for fun or to tease the other boys without them knowing, but before long his accent faded into that of a New Yorker. He wasn’t the same boy he was before.

If you asked Jack Kelly what he thought of Racetrack Higgins he’d tell you he was the strongest kid he’d ever known. He’d tell you that despite his lanky build and lack of physicality, he was stronger than any of his other boys. That he once ran across Brooklyn all the way back to Manhattan in under fifteen minutes just because he heard some guys talking about how they could mess with the boys at the lodging house. That he was incredibly smart, having received more education than most of the boys he used to stay with, and would spend his free time teaching them anything he could. He would even teach the boys some of his favorite Italian words and phrases if they were interested.

Besides that, he kept almost entirely to himself in terms of information. He would hide behind jokes and teasing insults to the point where no one really knew anything about him. For months and years he contemplated writing to his family, even just to check in and tell them how much his life had changed. But mail was expensive and when food is never a sure thing, there was no room for extra spending. Sometimes he wondered if it would be worth it to sell one of his cigars. His older brother Dante had slipped them into his bag when he left and Race treasured them with everything he had. He always had one in his mouth or in his pocket, never actually lighting them for the sake of wanting to keep them forever. Few people actually noticed that he never actually smoked, surprisingly enough.

It didn’t take long before he scrapped that idea. Not long after, he gave up on writing to them, but a part of him still wondered.

So when he applied for a place at the culinary school just outside the city, he never expected to get in. It was sort of a gag, a funny little “what if” plan just to see what would happen. He didn’t tell hardly anyone. Jack was an obvious choice, seeing as how he was the closest thing to family Race had ever known in New York, but he did make an effort to casually mention it to Spot beforehand. He told him as if it meant nothing because, in terms of Race’s personal evaluation of self-worth, there was no way they would ever want someone like him.

But Jack took him to apply. He dropped his application into the admissions office at the school and still had time for a days work.

Just a few days later he received a letter asking him to formally apply by actually demonstrating some of his skills for an admissions judge. No one knew he went early one morning before anyone else was awake, cooked for the small group of people, and went back before anyone even noticed he was gone.

It was nearly two weeks later before anything showed up on the doorstep of the Manhattan lodging house. Race had stayed in Brooklyn the previous night, having visited Spot and been convinced not to walk all the way back to Manhattan in the middle of the night. That being said, he arrived back in Manhattan just before noon and opened the door to a room full of boys crowding around the table in the common room.

The moment Racetrack Higgins entered the room, dozens of kids of all ages ran to him, spurring congratulations. He had no idea what was going on, and albeit wanted to scream with overwhelming anxiety, until he looked up and there was Jack. His signature smirk was different, this one much more meaningful, and he held a piece of paper high up in the air.

“You son of a bitch,” Jack mused, handing over the letter as Race took it with shanking hands. His words were nothing but a proud remark as he struggled to understand how one of his own boys was able to keep such a talent a secret for so long. He grinned with his signature crooked smile before pulling the smaller boy into a hug.

Race felt like he was walking through a dream. He held his arms around Jack’s neck, lingering on the feeling of family and how, at that point in his life, Jack was the closest thing to a real brother

“They’d be so proud a’ yous’, Antonio,” Jack whispered, his rough voice a sort of anchor as Race attempted to actually process what he had just done.

He just applied to culinary school on a whim simply because he saw a flyer for the school on his way to the Sheepshead one day. He snuck over to the edge of Manhattan one morning and made the one thing his mother would always cook for him when he was sad. It had been years since he’d been able to cook in a proper kitchen and he smiled throughout. It was just something he always loved and he never realized how much he missed it until he finally got the chance to do it again.

It didn’t take long for Race to explain to everyone what had happened, but he was well past eighteen and was really just staying with the newsies because he liked their company. He’d been working night shifts as a busboy at a local diner and probably could afford an apartment, but he preferred to use whatever extra spending money for the things he knew those boys needed. For one thing, actual food. It wasn’t a problem, he got to cook every once in a while when he had the night off from work and the kids all looked heaps healthier than he and his friends had back when they were younger.

But that changed the minute he read that letter. It meant he wasn’t destined to mop up spilled milkshakes and refill napkin racks forever and that maybe coming to New York all those years ago had done more good than bad. He made sure to hug each and every one of those kids before he left for work.

The thing was, he was far too excited to bus tables right now. He politely quit his job, thanking the nice elderly couple who owned it for hiring him despite his lack of experience and generally frowned upon lifestyle as he left and promising to visit. Next up was Brooklyn. He made it to the bridge in another ten minutes at a light jog and knocked at Spot Conlon’s apartment door within fifteen.

As if Race’s hair wasn’t already a mess from running, Spot opened the door so fiercely that a gust of wind tossed his curls across his face once more.

“Race? ‘The hell are you doin’ here?” Spot’s voice was groggy and tired and he yawned as he opened the door to let Race in.

“Sean I did it,” Race spoke, blurting the words out as Spot froze in his tracks. He turned slowly as he faced the other, a confused look on his face. “I got in.”

Race held out the letter as Spot took it gingerly, reading over the words carefully as a smile filled his entire face. To say that seeing Spot smile like that was rare was an understatement. Race absolutely adored his genuine smile and couldn’t help grinning back.

“Tony, I-,” Spot eventually starts, attempting to form words before he gave up and just held the other tight, barely lifting his legs off the ground as Race squealed in surprise. Spot spun him in unbalanced circles around his living room they laughed openly, each savoring their best friend’s happiness. When Spot eventually let go, they wre both dizzy and delusional, but they can’t stop smiling and to Race it meant the world just to see him smile.

He was happier than he’d ever been and he hoped it was clear.

That day marked one of the greatest things that had ever happened to Racetrack Higgins. A miracle, he would tell you, but he never amounted it to his own skill. He would tell you he couldn’t believe he’d ever been accepted, as if he didn’t believe he should’ve been, but he was up at the ass-crack of dawn every morning to practice his recipes and dropping off dishes left and right at all his friends’ apartments. Some days Spot would get up for work and see an entire meal sitting in the kitchen waiting for him from his best friend. Occasionally his old friends, like Romeo who eventually took over for Jack with the Manhattan newsies, would see enough food sitting at the lodging house to feed the kids for days. Full-blown cakes would be brought to every friend’s birthday and huge meals were present for every celebration. He really didn’t realize just how much of it came from his family until one night.

He had a big test the night before Christmas Eve and had been studying one recipe for weeks until the day finally came when he would have to make it in front of his professors and a panel of critics. Race had been up all night and had at least fifteen servings of boeuf bourguignon left around his apartment when he came home afterwards. Each once was plated with a different design idea and with varying portions, but every single one was the exact same meal over and over again and the whole place smelled heavenly. By then, his friends were well-aware of his pursuits, having all received random meals many times so far, and Spot had actually organized a little surprise for him. He gathered all of their friends and had planned a surprise party of-sorts to celebrate him undoubtedly passing his first semester of culinary school, but the second they showed up at Race’s apartment, he opened the door and every single one of them reacted differently to the smell that practically slapped them in the face.

Race was a mess, his blonde hair was tied back from his face with a bandana for a headband and there was sauce and spices all over his face. The clothes he’d been wearing for almost thirty-six hours were sitting in the kitchen drenched in broth and covered in remnants of everything he had made and his bare feet looked like they were about to fall off. Luckily he hadn’t changed out of the clothes he actually wore to the test, not that it made the rest of him look much better.

“Racer, holy hell, what happened ta’ you’s?” Spot asked, teasingly looking him up and down with a chuckle. He blushed embarrassingly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I, uh…I’s got a lot a’ leftover food so you’s all better start eatin’,” he joked, letting his friends all inside who, even more-so as they cautiously entered, were practically choking on the smell of boeuf bourguignon.

“Racer, this can’t possibly be good for ya’, what the hell’s been goin’ on in ‘ere?” Jack teased, sliding into a seat at the table and popping some potatoes into his mouth.

Race had retreated back into the kitchen, donning his food-stained apron once again, and continued stirring a saucepan on the stove. He groaned and turned the burner off, taking the sauce and dressing yet another plate of boeuf bourguignon.

“I’ had a test this mornin’, you knew that,” he retorted, going to the fridge to grab more of the same ingredients again.

“Anthony Higgins I swear if ya’ don’t stop making’ whatever the hell this delicious shit is, I’s gonna drag ya’ out’a this kitchen and ya’ ain’t comin’ back until it’s time for breakfast t’morrow,” Spot threatened, swallowing a bite of food alongside the others who were practically back to being starving teenagers as they ate so quickly.

Race just groaned and put the ingredients away. “You’s is right, I…really need a break,” he said with a laugh as he walked over to his friends, dramatically draping himself on Spot and Jack beside him. They laughed, but let him be and Race eventually re-situated to sit on Spot’s lap more casually.

He watched as his friends raved about his cooking, all of them acting like they hadn’t eaten in days and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Where’d ya’ learn how ta’ make this anyway?” Albert spoke up, popping another tiny potato into his mouth.

Race felt his heart sink as he tried his hardest not to let it show on his face.

“Oh, ah, my ma’ used to make it back home, but the school, they’s always givin’ me recipes for everything’,” he settled on, not revealing too much, but still telling the truth. This, however, was not enough apparently.

“Your mother used to make this? Was she a cook too?” Davey asked, apparently peaking his interest.

Race shrugged and nodded with a small smile.

“Yeah, ‘guess so. My parents had a lil’ café back home and if I wasn’t busy wit’ school n’ all that she would teach he her recipes. I’s pro’lly made this fifty times, and not just in tha’ last few hours,” he elaborated, smiling a little to himself. His friends chuckled, still trading food back and forth as Sarah spoke up from across the room.

“You keep saying ‘back home’, but isn’t that Manhattan? You still live here.”

It was an innocent question, really. To the best of any of their knowledge, mind Jack and Spot, he was Manhattan, born and bred. No one felt the need to ask further on his parents. Most of the people they knew didn’t have a family for one reason or another, but nope, the story had to come out at some point.

“Nah, all a’ you’s know I’s Italian,” he said casually, trying to hold off explaining as long as he could.

“Really? I didn’t know that, Race, that’s really cool! Were your parent’s born there?” Sarah continued, bringing to light the flaw in his plan. Sarah was a fairly new addition to their group, as were some of the others, and he never realized how little they knew.

“Oh, uh, no I’s actually from there. Like, I used’ta live there,” he elaborated. He started cleaning up the kitchen, really not wanting to look his friends in the eyes as he inevitably told them his sob story. “My family sent me ‘ere when I was eleven.”

The room was silent for a moment as everyone seemed to be trying to comprehend what he was saying. Race took a quick glance up at Jack and Spot, concerned looks in the boys’ eyes that Race just shrugged off. It was time and there was no reason why he couldn’t tell them. He had come to terms with it and he was fine.

“Did they come wit’ you’s? I mean, they’s ya’ family…,” Elmer spoke up. He was quite new too and they hadn’t really spoken much since Race moved out of the lodging house and Elmer moved in with Albert.

Race just shook his head.

“Nah, they’s weren’t allowed. Immigration’s real strict wit’ what you’s gotta do to get in. I was the only one eligible so’s I was the only one that went.”

Jack could feel his chest tightening as he listened to his friend tell the story he told him years ago and if he was planning on sharing as much as he did then, this was going to be harder than he knew Race was thinking it would be.

“Racer, you’s don’t gotta talk about it, really,” Jack blurted, catching the boy’s attention once more.

“No, ’ts fine Jackie, I’s gotta talk ‘bout it at some point. Keepin’ it in for this long pro’lly ain’t good,” Race countered, still trying to keep up a casual attitude the best he could.

“Wait, you haven’t seen your family in eight years?” Davey spoke this time, making his heart drop at the literal fact being called out for once. “I mean, I know a lot of these guys haven’t either, but most of them wouldn’t even want to if they could. Do you…do you miss them?”Race took a deep breath to some extent. His hands were shaking as he continued cleaning, but he could feel his eyes burning. He could feel the ache in his chest and the tears brimming in his eyes.

All he could do was nod as he couldn’t hold back anymore and let out the softest of sobs. In seconds he was in Spot’s arms. The rest of the group just sort of…watched. They were all ready to help in any way, but they just stood shocked at ‘The Great Spot Conlon’ even showing an ounce of human emotions.

The smaller boy just wrapped his arms around Race and didn’t move. He only spoke loud enough for the other boy to hear, but the words gave Race an ounce of hope for the first time in what felt like far too long.

“ ‘m proud a’ you’s.”

It wasn’t until just under a year later that the subject resurfaced again.

Things had changed, feelings had been revealed, and new relationships were formed where two boys never thought was possible.

Race was happy. Truly happy for once in his life, all because his best friend in the world gave him a life in New York he never believed he could have.

He had a family of the greatest friends he’d ever known, he had a job, he had his own apartment to live in, he was getting an education with the greatest opportunity he’d ever been given, and he had someone who loved him. It was almost Christmas, a holiday he hadn’t really celebrated since he was back in Italy, but one that he’d never really wanted to anyway.

Still, his friends, even Davey and Sarah who were more than excited to spend the holiday with their friends after Hanukkah was over, were eager to celebrate with the only family most of them had left. He agreed, of course, and jokingly asked if anyone wanted him to make the food for their dinner.

He was spending most of his time with his boyfriend, either spending a few nights at Spot’s apartment in Brooklyn, or the other way around at Race’s. They spent almost every minute together, mostly at home, just enjoying each other’s company, but the holiday festivities were definitely included. They discussed gifts, Spot practically pleading Race to let him get him something, despite how many times the latter said he didn’t need anything.

Spot, however, had a plan and he was going to go through with it if it killed him. Not literally, of course, but he needed to do this. He needed this because he had no way of ever doing it for himself, and never would. Race still had a chance and Spot was fully-prepared to take it. Christmas Eve was spent at Race’s apartment, being the only one with a proper dining table reasonably sized for the group. By then the group was as close as could be.

When their friends began arriving, some in pairs, some in trios, and just so many that rather than feeling stressed about the number of people around or the party turning out okay, Race just watched each person walk through the door with a smile, behind grateful for the family he found.

Each one of them meant the absolute world to him and he just loved how well they all fit in together, despite all of their differences.

Albert was Race’s best friend in Manhattan. The only one who could keep up with his quick wit and the only one willing to run with him in the mornings before the streets were too crowded for their antics. On Race’s bad days, sometimes he was the only one who could make him smile. The only one who’s jokes he couldn’t resist laughing at, which meant more than any other part of their friendship. He was a constant source of happiness wherever he went; one of the wonders of being his friend.

Elmer, as new to the group as he was, had been Race’s bunk neighbor for years back at the lodging house. He was the source of many pranks, late night chats, and just accompaniment. He’d seen more of Race’s nightmares and attacks through the years than anyone else and, well, he loved Albert so if they were happy, he was happy.

Romeo was someone he honestly never expected to love as much as he did. They were friends for years, bonding over their flirty nature and constantly teasing each other’s good looks. Race had always thought there was only one way to flirt and that was to girls, but when Specs moved into the house at fifteen, Romeo flipped that all upside down. He took an immediate liking to the boy and would flirt with his friend at any opportunity. Race always wondered if he would’ve ever let himself recognize his feelings had it not been for that boy’s casual treatment of it, like it wasn’t the disease the rest of the country seemed to think it was.

Specs was just the same. The three were close ever since he came to the house and Race really did credit them for part who he came to be. Specs was a dancer, clearly an old soul, and one of the most caring people Race had ever met. He helped him figure out who he was, swearing not to embarrass the older boy relying on the younger in his time of need. Race had always felt weak, that being emotional and caring was bad in a life like the one he lived, but the boy two years his junior responded with a laugh and told him that the only way to survive in a life like theirs was to be real. He’d always be grateful for that.

Davey was really something else. He was unlike any of the other boys he’d met in the best way possible. Davey had received an education his whole life and when he found out about Race’s teaching hobby, he was eager to help. With Race, Davey, and occasionally even his younger brother Les, they had almost every single kid in the house reading and writing within a year.

Sarah, though probably the newest addition to the group, was someone Race practically owed his life to. Not too long before Christmas, he and Spot were outside Race’s apartment on the fire escape when some cops found them and their situation a little suspicious. The forced the boys down to the streets before pinning them and attempting to get them to admit to something the only suspected. It was then that Sarah rounded the corner from the grocery market and saw her friends, Race pinned up against a wall and Spot on the ground with a policeman’s boot pressing into his back. She took action within seconds, explaining that Race was her cousin who had come to visit her and Spot for their upcoming wedding. She claimed they had never met and were simply taking some time to get to know each other. Anyone alive knew they would’ve been beat, arrested, and more than likely something much worse had she not stepped in, but she saved their asses and Race always felt like he owed her his life for that.

Katherine was practically an angel. She was someone who had no affiliation herself with any of the problems that faced her friends, but she stood barely by their sides any and every time they needed her. She was never in danger because of her sexuality, she was never discriminated against for her religion, and she was never harassed for her race, but she had seen the hurt through her friends and dedicated her time to publishing anonymous articles defending the minorities of New York and the whole country. Whether or not they brought any actual change didn’t matter to her because they finally felt like they had a voice because of her, and Katherine had a cause she believed in; standing for the people she loved.

Crutchie was really the one who changed his life more than any of the others. Being the first “openly” gay person Race had ever known, he was the one who made him feel safe. He was the one that convinced Race that, no matter what, his friends would still love him, and that his life wouldn’t just end if he admitted it to himself. When Race said the two words aloud for the first time, it was because Crutchie held his hands on his shoulders on the lodging house rooftop and told him he could do it. Race would’ve never muttered the words “I’m gay” had he not been shown the love and support he so desperately needed that night. He could honestly say he was happy with himself and his current life, and he owed the start of that to Crutchie.

Jack. The first person in the entire country to ever be kind to him. His first friend. His brother. Jack was the one who gave him a chance, a life, a family. He had the biggest heart of anyone Race had ever known. He’d been through so much on his own, but always made the time to help anyone else who needed it. There wasn’t anything in particular that he said or did, but Jack he’d take a bullet for and anything else the world could throw at him. He wanted to give back one day. To thank him for practically saving his life back all those years ago, and if things went right, maybe one day he’d be able to. He wanted more than anything just to find a way to express that everything he’d ever done for not only Race, but for every boy and girl that ever lived in that old house, was the greatest act of selfless love anyone had ever shown. He was eternally grateful just for Jack being alive. He didn’t know what he would have done had he not met that boy back then, because eight years later he still felt at home every time Jack entered the room and if that wasn’t the most valuable part of a family, then he didn’t want a family because what he had was everything he could ever want and more.

And then there was Spot. The first boy he ever loved, and hopefully his last love too. He was Race’s best friend for as long as they both could remember, but they had this dynamic that was so unique that no one ever knew what to make of it. He had only been living with the Manhattan boys for about a year when he crossed the bridge into Manhattan day and met the boy on the docks. He was taller than Race, and he would later find out that wouldn’t last long, but he was quiet and he didn’t say no when Race asked to sit with him on the docks. To Race, that was instant best friend material. It became more frequent that Race would go to the docks on the other side of the bridge every Friday and every time that curly blond head would come running across the bridge, Spot couldn’t help but smile. Race came by more often as the boys got older until eventually, Spot challenged the old leader of Brooklyn and the throne was his. The next day Race came running and Spot was waiting there for him just like he always was, but this time with a smile. That smile was reserved for Race and only Race. He told his best friend the great news and after a crushing hug broke apart, Spot declared his first order of business to be to invite Race to sell in Brooklyn. He promised he would have to move, that he could stay Manhattan if he wanted, but that he had a place to sell if he wanted to. Needless to say, Race started spending a whole lot more time in Brooklyn. Two years after that and Race was sixteen to Spot’s seventeen. He’d spent the night at Brooklyn once he finished selling because the stormy weather simply hadn’t let up. Some of the older Brooklyn boys were down in the common room with some beer they likely stole off of a delivery wagon or something, but Race was curious and, well, after winning one of the easiest poker games he’d ever played, he had a beer in his hand that was quickly drank. He wandered upstairs that night and into Spot’s bed that the boy had offered to share. It was far from the first time they had shared a bed, but the first time since Spot officially moved into the king’s suite and actually had his own room. It was the night Race realized, drowsy and with a clouded head, that he loved the slightly shorter boy with the dark brown hair and the strong arms and the smile reserved just for him. Spot was his whole life. Always had been and maybe always would be. He was his reason to keep going because no matter what, there was always another Thursday just a few days away. That every time the next day felt like a million years away, he’d just tell himself he’d be running across the bridge in no time. Spot was the thing he wanted most in his life. His childhood dream-come-true. So what if they both had issues, eventually that didn’t matter. They knew each other better than any other person alive and before long they knew all of the other’s ticks. Race had never had someone like that that paid such close attention to him before. He knew which jokes were genuine and which were to distract from his problems. Spot knew which body tremors were just antsy-ness, and which were his anxiety acting up. He knew how to tell something was wrong with just a glance and that meant so much more to Race than he’d ever be able to tell him. Race loved Spot and Spot loved him back. That was important, but the ways he showed it were the things keeping him going.

He had a family. He had plenty of people, more than he’d ever dreamed of, and all of them he loved more than the world.

So when they were all crowded around the table that night, Race took one look around the table and genuinely loved his life. He laughed along as Albert cracked a joke, rolled his eyes with Katherine as Davey and Sarah started bickering, and let himself take the compliments he was given on the food. He traded knowing glances with Elmer as he caught them playing footsie under the table, he laughed as Crutchie smeared cranberry sauce across Jack’s face, and he even had to go get his own glasses-cleaning kit when Romeo accidentally knocked Specs’s glasses off into his food. They were a happy family and this was undoubtedly the best holiday any of them had ever had. Race took Spot’s hand under the table and when the other smiled at him, he knew he truly did have everything he ever needed.

He had no idea how anything could possibly get any better, but after his friends all left that night, Spot stayed behind, the two cuddled up on the couch for ages before they both eventually fell asleep. Christmas morning came with Race waking up first, as usual, and preparing the same two cups of coffee he had gotten so accustomed to making and as he sipped his own black coffee he smiled to himself as he poured loads of sugar and cream into Spot’s so it wasn’t as strong. He thought of all of the things only they knew about each other and just how special they were together. He placed the second cup on the coffee table and curled back in beside Spot, who stirred as he did so.

“Mornin’ sleeping beauty,” Race teased and Spot turned to face him, a tired glare on his face.

“ ‘Ey tha’s my line,” he grumbled, his expression softening into a sweet smile. He pecked his boyfriend’s lips quickly before emerging from their pile of blankets.

“Wait, where’s ya’ goin’? I made you’s some coffee, asshole.”

Race sat up, facing him as Spot pulled on a pair of boots by the door. The shorter just laughed and grabbed his coat from the rack.

“Get dressed, baby. I’s got a surprise for you’s so meet me on the street when you’s done,” Spot said slyly, his cheeks pink and a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. Race felt his face go hot and he smiled as Spot slipped outside.

“Spot Conlon, you’s gonna be the death a’ me, I swear,” he mumbled to himself as he headed for the bedroom to get changed. One look out the window told him it was definitely Christmas and he tugged on the warmest pair of sweatpants he had with a sweater and one of Spot’s heavy work coats over it. He found his respective pair of boots by the door and grabbed his gloves from the table by the door, heading out the door with a shivering body and a smile on his face.

It had only taken him about ten minutes as he began to walk downstairs, but the excitement was bubbling in his chest and he simply couldn’t keep the smile off his face. When he walked outside he instantly shivered, tugging the coat tighter around his body and stood against the wall of his building. He couldn’t see where Spot was, but assumed he wouldn’t be long as he just looked around the streets. They were unsurprisingly less crowded than usual, especially since it was still quite early at about ten in the morning. There were people walking their dogs, people carrying groceries from the market, and even people out buying last-minute gifts, but his attention lingered on a large group of people standing huddled together on the other side of the street. He didn’t stare too long once he heard Spot’s voice call out to him from down the sidewalk he was on. He turned and smiled as he jogged over, chuckling as he brushed the collection of snowflakes in Spot’s hair.

“You’s so cute, Spotty. I know you’s always hate it when I say it, but ’ts true n’ I ain’t gonna stop,” Race teased as he pinched Spot’s cheeks that were rosy from the cold. The latter boy scoffed as he swatted away Race’s hand, but still smiled.

“I’s gonna let you get away wit’ this just ‘cause I like ya’ an’ this ’s real important,” Spot began and Race took a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching before taking his hand. “I need ta’ say somethin’ before I do this, but you’s gotta promise ta’ wait ’til I’s done before ya’ say anythin’, okay?”

Race nodded, a little nervous, but the small smile still rested on his lips.

“You’s gotta know by now that I love you’s. I’s loved ya’ for as long as I can remember, but now that we’s, ya’ know, doin’ this I jus’ realized I love you’s even more. Las’ night when you’s were tellin’ everybody ‘bout ya’ family…I’s never been so proud, Racer. You’s the strongest person I’ve ever known, n’ that’s the truth. I remember when ya’ first told me, a lil’ while afta’ we started datin’, and I’s been tryin’ to make this happen ever since. I know’s that we’s got a family, but Race, you deserve the world n’ that includes being’ wit’ ya’ family that loves ya’ as much as the rest a’ us do. Well, maybe not as much as me, but ya’ get what I mean,” Spot ranted, each word like another surging heartbeat as Race could feel his hand tightening in Spot’s. He barely even thought about what Spot was saying as he just kept his eyes on his face and let him speak.

“Tony, I think there’s some people ‘ere you’s gonna want ta’ meet,” he continued, letting go of his hand and grabbing Race by the shoulders. Race couldn’t even think as he was faced with the other side of the street and the huddled family staring back at him. He felt Spot’s arm slide around his back as he stood still in shock. “Those people right over there, they’s ya’ family, Tony, and they’s can’t wait ta’ meet ya’.”

Race just felt his eyes start watering and his hands were shanking and before he knew it he was running into their arms like nothing ever happened. His mother. He’d recognize her anywhere.

It had been so long that he now towered over her, wrapping his arms around her as he held on tight. Her hugs were warm, and her hair was soft, and her arms felt like a realization that he was never really fine without them. He pulled away eventually, only to be pulled back in as one by one, his whole family joined the embrace like he was finally back where he used to belong. They separated after a while, tears raining down all of their cheeks, but parted by wide smiles.

“Oh,  _Antonio_ , is it really you?” His mother’s voice was shaky and hopeful as she spoke, but Race simply nodded ad hugged her again. “Please, say something, darling. I need to hear your voice.”

Race chuckled but pulled out of her embrace, looking at his family before him and gesturing dramatically with his arms to the side. “Welcome to my home,” he spoke, grinning like an idiot.

Time seemed to fly by as he took a few moments with each of his parents and siblings before turning to the rest of the group.

“Well, I’s seein’ some new faces ‘round ‘ere,” he addressed the children either circling his legs or hiding behind their parents. ‘How’s about all a’ you’s introduce ya’selves?”

The kids themselves were shy, but thankfully someone took the lead.

“This is Lucca,” the younger of his older sisters spoke up, holding a baby wrapped up in her arms. She stepped forward, holding the bundle out to Race, who beamed as he held the boy.

“ _Ehilà_ ,” he cooed, rocking his arms gently. “ _Sono_ tuo _Zio Tony_.”

He pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead as he handed him back to his sister, brushing away her tears as he did so.

“Do you go by Tony now? We can use that instead of Antonio if you’d like,” his father proposed, earning a chuckle and a shrug from Race.

“Well, most’a my friends an’ I, we’s all got crazy nicknames, so anythin’ that feels normal for ya’ is fine wit’ me,” he said with a casual fondness in his voice as he remembered the day Jack gave him his name.

“Well then, Tony, meet your nieces, Amalia and Luciana,” his older brother prompted, leading forward two little girls with matching curly brown hair. He squatted down in front of them to the best of his ability, despite the first layer of snow covering the ground. He took their hands one by one, spinning the girls and kissing their knuckles the way he always used to see his father do with his sisters. If these little girls were anything like their aunts, then they probably loved the princess tales they adored when they were young.

“ _Meraviglioso di conoscerti, mie bellissime principessine_ ,” he spoke sweetly, grinning at the giggles he earned from the girls.

“What about me?!” Race turned around to see a little boy, not much older than about eight, with his arms folded over his chest in a huff. He chuckled, holding up his hand for a high-five to the boy, who relaxed at the gesture.

“Of course, how’s could I ever forget,” he chuckled, shaking the boy’s hand with a grin as the boy stood proudly, clearly feeling very grown up for shaking hands like an adult. “Who might you be, kiddo?”

The little boy glanced up at his mom, Race’s sister and the oldest of his siblings, before turning back to Race.

Everyone around them couldn’t help but notice how the boy was practically the spitting image if his uncle. The same blonde curls Race and his sister both shared with the same bright blue eyes no one else but the two boys had.

“Antonio,” the boy said and Race could tell the moment his heart tightened and the tears filled his eyes. The boy looked worried for a moment, before Race stood up, turned to his sister, and hugged her tighter than he ever thought possible.

They stayed like that for a while before either of them moved apart, but when they did, Race’s watery eyes were not alone.

“You…you named him after me?” He asked meekly. His sister just smiled sadly and took his hands.

“I-well, when I got pregnant, it was right before you left. We all thought we’d never get to see you again, but we still wanted to keep a little piece of you around, you know? I really hope you don’t mind, Tony,” she spoke before Race hugged her again, kissing her cheek over and over.

“ ’Course, Gianna. This is…the most amazin’ thing I could’a ever dreamed of,” he started, looking around at everyone. “Really, all a’ you’s is exactly like I’s always remembered an’ all a’ you’s new folks is jus’ perfect.”

The reunion lasted a bit longer as Race distanced himself for a moment, turning back to the other side of the street and grinning when he saw Spot still there leaning up against the wall of his apartment building watching from afar. Race practically pleaded silently as he waved for Spot to come join them, but after a probably unnecessary amount of miming, Spot made his way to the other side of the street, taking his place beside Race.

“ ‘Ey, everybody,” Race called, quickly gathering everyone’s attention as the excitedly crowded around the boys again. “I want you’s to meet my friend Sean.”

In seconds his mother’s arms were around Spot, thanking him over and over as the boy looked up at Race with a genuine smile on his face. He wanted so badly to just kiss him right then. He was so fucking happy and he had Spot to thank for all of it. Normally, he would’ve never even considered doing anything that would’ve jeopardized his relationship with his family, but as each member of his family seemed to take turns all praising Spot and thanking him over and over for reuniting them, Race just had to do it.

“Hey, uh ma? I’s kinda’ got somethin’ to say to all a you’s,” he asked, gesturing to his parents and older siblings. He looked over at Spot who seemed to immediately sense his nerves as he shot him a look as if to say, are you sure about this?

As his mom nodded and led his family in separate directions, Race hesitantly grabbed Spot’s hand and followed them. He stared at his feet for a long time before finally uttering the words.

“B’fore we’s all start doin’ anythin’ else, I feel like I’s gotta tell ya,” he started, looking around at all of their faces. “I’m gay.”

They looked startled for a moment, but the second Race looked down at Spot they just knew. In a flurry of motion, arms were thrown around bodies and Race pulled Spot towards him quickly before they were squeezed apart as Race’s family hugged them both tightly, all laughing happily.

Race, having stopped counting how many times he’d cried that morning, buried his face in Spot’s hair, holding him the tightest.

“So’s you all really don’t hate me?” He asked shyly, to which one glance between his mother and father gave him the answer.

“Son, not a single thing you could say or do could change how happy we are to have you back in our lives. ‘Tonio, we’ve been waiting for this moment for over eight years, and as long as you’re happy and he’s treating you well, we couldn’t be prouder,” his dad spoke with a smile.

Race just turned to Spot and kissed him right on his temple where a particularly large amount of snow had collected. The shorter boy smiled a little in surprise, but Race honestly just couldn’t care any less than he did after everything that had happened. Remembering that even though Race’s family shielded them pretty well, they were still in public so Race separated them quickly, resting his arms around Spot’s shoulders instead.

“D’you guys want ta’ come inside? I’s got a place in that buildin’,” Race suggested, to which everyone agreed and followed the boys inside.

Race’s apartment wasn’t small, but it was only ever meant to house one person, plus the occasional Spot. Once the roughly dozen people filled inside, the entire living room was packed and it looked just like it did every time their friends came over.

“Anybody hungry?” Race asked the room full of people and was met with a collective ‘yes’. He chuckled and retreated to the kitchen. He watched on as his family chatted amongst themselves, a flurry of both English and Italian, but mostly just laughs. As Race began preparing the food, Spot went to join him in the kitchen, sliding his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Spot, can I talk to ya’ for jus’ a minute?” He asked shyly, turning over his shoulder, remaining in Spot’s arms.

They smaller boy just glanced around to make sure no one needed anything before nodding and leading Race into his bedroom. The two hopped onto the bed, laying on their backs beside each other and staring straight up.

“I love you,” Spot spoke plainly, not turning his head at all, but maneuvering his hand until it found Race’s. It didn’t matter how he said it, it didn’t matter where he said it, but every single time Race heard those words it made his heart flutter. Race couldn’t help but grin at the hope that Spot felt the need to talk to him in private just to tell him he loved him. Plus, it further enforced the secret fact that Spot Conlon was not terrifying, but instead just a massive dork.

“I love you too,” he responded just as nonchalantly. A slight squeeze of his hand was enough of a comfort to help him breathe easy from the quite eventful morning they’d had. “For real though, I’s never been so happy in my life, Sean. That’s all ‘cause a’ you’s an’ I don’t know how to tell ya’ how grateful I is, but jus’ know that I love you. So, so much.”

Spot took their intertwined hands and held them to his lips, kissing Race’s knuckles softly.

“If there’s anybody in this world that deserves it, it’s you’s, Racer. I’s bein’ serious, ya’ better know that by now if I’s sayin’ somethin’ genuine you’s gotta believe it,” he joked, finally turning to face his boyfriend who was already staring over at him. “What? Ya’ like the view?”

Race snorted, rolling his eyes scoffing at Spot.

“Yeah, definitely,” he teased sarcastically. “You’s so pretty, it must be tiring.”

“Damn right it is, I’s exhausted,” Spot countered without missing a beat.

Race just cackled, rolling over as he curled into Spot’s side laughing like a maniac. Spot just let go of his hand and wrapped his arms around the boy’s body, pulling him on top of him as they rolled around laughing.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Spot mumbled into Race’s ears they teetered over the edge of the bed. He took one look at his boyfriend, his blond curls a mess from their previous antics, his bright blue eyes watering from laughing so hard, and his freckled cheeks rosy from the closeness of Spot on top of him.

Race just snickered, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his dimples widening as he smiled.

“Right,” he said laughing. “Forgot ‘bout that for a little while there.”

Spot just smirked, attempting to pull the two of them further up so they weren’t practically hanging off the edge, but that didn’t exactly go as planned.

“Spot!” Race practically screamed as the two went falling off the side, landing side by side on the hardwood floor, grateful only for a moment that their clothes from the night before were still covering the floor.

Spot was about to say something witty about them really falling for each other, but he couldn’t help it. He just tugged Race to his chest and laughed openly and loudly.

Race just closed his eyes, burying his face in Spot’s shirt and listened to the sweetest sound in the world. He couldn’t help but think of everything that led to them, from the first time he saw the former king of Brooklyn in person, feeling something about him that he could never identify. It took years, a lot of sneaking out, a secret best friendship, and a healthy disregard for the law before he ever knew what it was that made him so drawn to the boy that made every other kid in Manhattan run away screaming.

It was almost the same thing that made Jack call out to the tiny boy sprinting off the docs that day in July. The same thing that made him take a chance on a kid unlike any he’d ever met. The thing that convinced Spot Conlon not to soak the scrawny kid from Manhattan running around Brooklyn turf. The thing that made him take a chance on applying to school. It was what made him tell his family of friends the scariest two words in the world, and the thing that made him come back to them at the end of every day. It was the thing that made his family able to let him go for the chance of a better life. It was the thing that allowed them to give up their own dreams for him to live them instead. It was the same thing that kept him going every day.

Love. All different kinds from familial love, to friendship love, to, well, love love.

He just curled up into the boy next to him and held on tight.

“You’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, truly happier than he’d ever been.

Spot kissed the top of his head and squeezed his watering eyes shut. No one would ever see him cry, not for a little bit longer, but he just didn’t want to da anything to ruin this moment. Race’s words echoes over and over in his head as he felt something he’d never felt before.

No one had ever said anything like that to him before and in that moment he realized just how amazingly special what they had was. Nothing he could ever think of to say could possibly be everything he meant so simply just holding him would have to be enough for now.

It was as if they completely forgot about the world around them and just laid content on the floor of Race’s bedroom, surrounded by discarded clothes and old newspapers.

In fact, they did forget about the world for a little while, because they were in for a rude awakening when the smoke alarm started blaring.

“ _Figlio di puttana_!” Race swore loudly, scrambling to get up as Spot just sat there laughing at him. Race just glared before sprinting into the kitchen where he had stupidly left the stove burners on.

When Race emerged into the kitchen, frantically opening his apartment door and fanning the smoke out with a towel, his family stood around the living room, clearly very concerned and confused.

“Sorry, sorry! ’t’s fine, I’s always doin’ this,” he spoke erratically, taking the pan off the stove and dumping its burnt contents into the trash.

Spot had propped himself up on one of the barstools facing the kitchen and turned back to Race’s family, a smirk on his face.

“You’d never guess, but he’s a chef,” Spot teased, glancing back at Race who scoffed at the shit-eating grin on his face.

“ _In training,_ ” Race interjected, immediately sparking a conversation with his family.

“Oh, darling really? That’s incredible, are you studying it, or just working somewhere, or-?” His mother was cut off from her excitement as Race actually tried to stay humble.

“I’m still in school, ma, it ain’t that big a’ deal.”

Spot just rolled his eyes and turned to Race’s parents.

“He’s got a’ full ride scholarship to the Institute a’ Culinary Education,” Spot explained for him, taking note of the blush that filled his boyfriend’s cheeks. “Which is definitely a big deal, Tony”

“Okay, so if you’re some hot-shot culinary pro or whatever, then explain to me how you just burnt a pot of oatmeal,” his younger brother teased, sticking his tongue out to mirror Race’s.

“Suddup’ Marco, I’d like to see ya’ try,” he joked, grabbing some bread and deciding to just go for French toast instead. “Besides, if you’s doubtin’ me, I’s got more oatmeal in ‘ere an’ it’d definitely be worth it ta’ burn down my house jus’ to see you try to cook for once in your life.”

The younger boy just laughed and admitted his defeat as Race began making toast after toast and passing them around. The giant family continued making small talk with one another, but the conversation quickly turned from casual catching up, to a recipe for disappointment.

“So, how did you two meet?” Race glanced up from his food to see his older sister gesturing between him and Spot. They looked at each other as Race frantically tried to come up with something.

“We, um-“

“We used to work t’gether,” Spot finished, smoothly filling in as Race felt himself exhale a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

She nodded in a way that could only tell she was still curious.

“That’s nice,” she continued with a smile. “How long ago? Ooh, Tony what was your first job?”

Excitement lit up her eyes as others around the table began to take notice and pay attention to their conversation. Spot’s hand found it’s way to Race’s beside him and he pressed circles into his palm, trying to silently ease his nerves.

Back when Race first told Spot about his family, the one thing he said that broke Spot’s heart more than anything else was when Race told him he thought his family would be disappointed in him. He was sure of it and he felt like it was too late. He told Spot how they wanted him to find a family to live with, to continue going to school, and all of the things he did back home, but Race just never could. He never realized how different New York was from Italy until it was too late. Spot could just tell Race was terrified, no matter how well he had trained himself to hide it.

“I, uh, used’ta sell newspapers. We both did,” he eventually responded, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

He glanced over as the older one of his younger brothers started giggling.

“A paperboy? Really?”

Race blushed nervously, trying to think of a retort.

“What? You ain’t never had a job either,” he spat back, earning a scoff from the boy.

“Fine, but I’m only twelve! No one works that young.”

Race just rolled his eyes and didn’t even think as he let the words roll off his tongue.

“We did.”

The room was silent for a moment as Race felt the realization sink in. His heart was racing and he frantically squeezed Spot’s hand tighter and tighter to the point where Spot simply reached his hand over and felt the other boy’s pulse, noticing how rapid his heart was beating.

He leaned over and whispered in Race’s ear, “Baby, ’t’s okay, you ain’t gotta say anythin’ you don’t wanna, but you’s gotta calm down. Deep breaths, remember? In for five, out for seven.”

Race nodded and did so until he was slightly more in control over himself. His grip on Spot’s hand loosened and he continued.

“We’s both sold papes since we was kids. Sean since he was ‘bout eight or nine. I jus’ started when I got ‘ere,” Race explained, hoping the conversation was done.

“Wow, I’m quite impressed you two were able to handle all of that, what with going to school and family duties and all that,” his mother praised, smiling so innocently that neither of the boys had the heart to tell her.

Spot just looked over at Race and spoke softly, “Tony, you’s don’t gotta do this. I’ll tell ‘em if ya’ want me to, but they’s gonna need ta’ find out eventually.”

He took a deep breath one more time and just made a decision, hardly thinking past his gut instinct.

“Ma? Can we’s talk for a minute? Both a you’s?” He asked shyly, pointing at both of his parents and standing from the table as he gave Spot a look, silently asking him to come too.

They retreated into the hallway, closing the door behind them as Race leaned back against the wood.

“Son, whatever the problem is, you can tell us,” his father started, putting his hand on Race’s shoulder.

Race just nodded and tried to ignore his heartbeat echoing through his eyes.

“I didn’t…go back ta’ school when I came here,” he spoke slowly, not looking up from the ground.

“You…what?” All he could think about was how his mother sounded so disappointed.

“Please, ma. Jus’ let me explain n’ then you’s can say whateva’ ya’ want,” Race mumbled, sniffling as he brushed off the freshly-fallen tears from his cheeks.

His mother nodded, remaining silent as his father wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“The day I got off tha’ boat…I found out jus’ how diff’rent it was ‘ere,” he started, his voice shaky and uncertain. “But then I met someone. His name’s Jack an’ he…helped me. He showed me how ta’ live ‘ere and he took me in. I told ‘im I needed ta’ find a fam’ly or somethin’, but he said th’only way ta’ get adopted ’s ta’ have a guardian ta’ give ya’ up. I told him I ain’t got nobody anymore n’ he gave me a place ta’ stay.”

Spot, for what felt like the millionth time that afternoon, slid his hand into Race’s to comfort him, wanting to badly to just hold him until his tears stopped falling.

“I know you’d were wantin’ me to get n’ education, but I’s doin’ it now an’ that’s all I’d able ta’ do. But ‘t’s not like I forgot everythin’ from school, I’s been teachin’ the boys I lived wit’ for years everythin’ I know’s. Those kids...they ain’t never been to school in they’s lives, but now they’s all can read, ma! I promise, I did somethin’ good,” he finished, his voice trailing off as he never once looked up from his shoes.

He could feel his chest getting tighter and heavier with each second of silence. The only thing keeping him from sinking into the floor was Spot’s hand squeezing his own tightly.

“Sweetheart, that’s far more important to me than you doing what you thought you were supposed to. I’m so proud of you, helping all those kids like that, ‘Tonio,” his mother said, cupping his cheek as she lifted his chin to look up at her.

“So you stayed with friends? Was it some sort of foster home?” His father seemed to feel just the same as he tried to help by moving on.

Race shrugged and nodded a little.

“Like I was sayin’, we used’ta sell newspapers. The city’s got a house for any a’ the kids that ain’t got a home, so’s Jack took me in an’ I lived there ‘til I was eighteen. I used’ta work nights at a lil’ restaurant nearby n’ I had some money saved up, so’s when I got into the school, I moved in ‘ere,” he spoke with a false confidence as he reached the part of the story he was the most afraid to tell. “There was ‘bout six months when we was sixteen an’ that’s the only part a’ my life that was anythin’ less than fine. The boys n’ I...we went on strike when tha’ guys that owned the papes decided to hike up tha’ price fo’ us. We’ only livin’ on pennies, so’s that was a big deal. We formed a union, got ourselves in the papes, an even held a city-wide protest, but fo’ a while we was all livin’ on the streets. The city had ta’ shut down our buildin’ since we wasn’t makin’ any money or nothin’. That’s when things got real bad. Our first day on tha’ strike, me ’n the otha’ guys from Manhattan went to tha’ circulation gates an’ all hell broke loose. The guys from the pape’s company was all there waitin’ for us an’ they’s all started soakin’ us left n’ right,” Race’s voice got more and more stuttered and shaky as he continued and Spot could tell, both from his own sickening recollection of the event, but from the fact that it was perfectly clear who badly it messed up Race. He took his arm in his free hand and traced along his forearm in a meager attempt to calm the boy down. “Accordin’ ta’ Jack, one a’ tha’ guys got me real good in the head with a bat b’cause I blacked out there an’ the next thing I knew we was in the refuge. Me an’ about two otha’ guys in what’s basic’lly a jail for kids, but they ain’t even feedin’ the kids there. I’s was only there ‘bout a week or so b’fore tha’ strike ended, but it was hell an’ I wouldn’t wish it on anybody, no matter what they’s done.”

He had to take a deep breath to stop the free-flowing tears and while he composed himself, Spot figured he’d give his own side of the story a shot.

“Back then, I used’ta lead the Brooklyn newsies. When Jack came to tha’ house one day tellin’ me he an’ his boys was goin’ on strike, I didn’t believe ‘im. I knew Jack an’ I knew what they’s was up against, but they did it. They asked us for help, I told ‘em to prove they ain’t in ova’ they’s heads, an’ the night after the strike Jack’s back at my doorstep beggin’ me to help get ‘im back. I was confused at first, but I knew he was tellin’ the truth. I asked ‘im who he was talkin’ ‘bout, an’ he jus’ looked at me wit’ this look an’ said ‘you know’. It took about three seconds b’fore I was out the door runnin’ to Manhattan. I promised myself that night that I ain’t gonna lose ‘im again,” Spot finished, gripping Race’s hand like it was his only lifeline. He looked up at his boyfriend to see if he was okay to continue, but he nodded as if he knew what Spot was about to ask, and kept going.

“I don’t know why we’s tellin’ you all this, but I feel like you’s should know ‘bout tha’ biggest parts a’ my life an’, well, this is most a’ it. Tha’ day we won tha’ strike, Jack got the gov’na ta’ shut down the refuge an’ I made ‘em take me ta’ Brooklyn first so’s I could see Sean. Tha’ second I climbed outta’ that carriage he held me an’ told me jus’ that. I ain’t been worried ‘bout bein’ safe in years ‘cause now I ain’t alone. Eva’ since then I’s had the most amazing life, you wouldn’t even believe it. I’s got amazing friends, I’s got a job, I’s got school, an I’s got Sean. That’s all I could eva’ want or need, so’s far as I’s concerned, my life ain’t nothin’ short a’ everythin’ I could possibly dream of,” Race concluded, still trying to stop his tears from falling, but he was smiling a real smile and that meant more than the tears.

His parents didn’t even say anything. They just lunged straight forward and hugged their son. Both of their eyes were filled with tears and Spot could tell they were having a bit of a ‘moment’ so he went to step back a bit, before Race mom grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him in. Spot chuckled at the frank inclusion, but joined the hug nonetheless. It had been a really long time since he’d had a family with actual parents that sometimes he forgot what it was like, but this…this was nice.

“Don’t even think about it, Sean. You’re just as much of a part of his family as any of the rest of us, so you better get used to being included,” Race’s dad teased as the boy just grinned with his crooked smile.

“Yessir’,” he retorted, half-sarcastically as they pulled apart, Spot keeping his arms around Race’s waist a little longer.

“Should we go back inside now? I’m sure everyone’s probably wondering what’s going on,” Race commented with a chuckle as he opened the door.

“Nah, you go on ahead, I’d got one more thing I’s gotta say, if you don’t mind..?”

Race just nodded and closed the door behind him, leaving Spot outside with is parents.

“Sean, sweetheart, we can’t even begin to thank you enough for everything you’ve done for our son. Honestly, he looks so happy around you, it’s practically contagious,” his mother said, earning a bit of blush to rise to Spot’s cheeks.

“Thank you, ma’am. Your son…he’s the best part a’ my life. I’d do anythin’ ta’ make ‘im happy,” he gushed, embarrassing himself with how sappy he was being. If any of their friends knew about this, he’d probably be dead. “But really, there’s actually something I’s been wantin’ to ask the two of you.”

Race’s parents just stood together and nodded.

“Mr. and Mrs. Higgins, I know ’t’s no where near legal for us ta’ actually do this, but if we actually could, I’d ask for permission ta’ marry your son. I know I’s pro’lly not even close ta’ what you’s was expectin’ Tony’s partner ta’ look like all these years, but he’s everythin’ to me an’ if it ain’t too weird, I’s had somethin’ planned for ages an’ I jus’ wanted ta’ get your permission,” Spot spoke as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. He instantly smiled as he looked at it in his hands, flipping the box open and showing it to Race’s parents. The ring was nothing too fancy, but to say the least, Spot had been working on making this perfect for ages. It was a thin silver band with a pair of two tiny stones in the middle; one pale blue and one marbled shades of brown. “I really wanted the stones ta’ mean somethin’, ya’ know? Believe me, I’s known Tony long enough to know he ain’t picky about diamonds or nothin’, so’s I went wit’ somethin’ that has meaning. The blue one, that’s Larimar. It’s s’posed ta’ mean love, n’ personal strength, n’ healing. I thought it was nice, plus who don’t need more a’ that?”

He was still just staring at the box in Race’s mother’s hands, not ready to look them in the faces yet.

“The brown one, that’s a smoky quartz. It means somethin’ like endurance n’ pride, which seemed very  _him_ , you know? Anyways, you’s don’t gotta say yes, I know this ’s pretty stupid since we’s ain’t even able ta’ get married or nothin’, but I’d still like ta’ know, if we could, if it would be okay,” Spot finished, swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked up at Race’s parents. His mother gingerly shut the box and handed it back to Spot, who tucked it back away into his pocket.

“Sean, never in my life have I encountered someone with such an obvious relationship with the concept of love,” his mother started, worrying Spot instantly. “It’s clear this isn’t easy for you, it’s pretty clear you’re still afraid of being so close to someone, but mostly I can just tell, both as a mother and as someone who knows what it’s like to love someone and not be able to do everything to show it, I can tell it scares you how much you love him. It makes me so happy to see the two of you and, darling, there’s no one I’d rather see my son with than you. I don’t have to know much about you to know you’re a good person and if it makes any difference, I wish you could actually marry each other. People will say what they will about people like the two of you, but in all honesty, I’ve never seen a problem with it. I love love and I love people that love each other. I don’t care who they are or what makes them different, I just care if they make each other happy. The only thing I ask is that you do this while we’re still here. I feel like we’ve all missed so many important moments, but I’d like to at least be able to be there for one.”

Spot just couldn’t stop smiling. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever smiled so much in his life, but he at least had a reason.

“I thought ya’ might say that,” he started. “Which is why I was plannin’ on doin’ it as soon as possible.”

His father chuckled, clapping Spot on the back.

“I’m real happy for you, kid. Just make sure you remember to breathe. I remember the day I asked Elena to marry me. I was just some wannabe-businessman from Ireland who found this beautiful Italian woman who liked him for God knows what reasons, but when you finally do it, it’ll feel like the easiest thing in the world.”Spot blushed, glancing once more down at the box in his hands before nodding and tucking it back away in his pocket. He looked between both of Race’s parents with a smile.

“Thank you both. Really, I haven’t had a fam’ly in years an’ it’s real nice to see all a you’s together. It means a lot that you’s so supportive of all a’ this,” he gushed, not caring anymore about his typical image.

“That’s what families are for, Sean, and now you’re a part of this one,” Race’s mother finished, heading back inside as her husband followed close behind. He stepped back in as well and closed the door behind them, smirking at Race running around the apartment with one of his nieces on his shoulders squealing with laughter.

He dodged out of their way as Race came running past and gathered as many members of the Higgins family as he could to sit around the living room. There was sadly only one couch, which meant anyone that didn’t get a seat was sitting around the coffee table on the floor, but most of the kids didn’t mind so the couch was left for the adults. Race and his niece calmed down and went to join everyone else after a while and both sat on the floor, the other twin girl climbing into his lap alongside her sister.

Spot sat up against the wall and looked over at his boyfriend, unsurprisingly looking back at him with a smile.

“How’s about we’s all get some Christmas spirit going?” Spot suggested, only to be met with cheers and excitement. He hopped up and went to start the record player in the corner. The two were quite the collectors of records and each had substantial collections at their respective apartments. Spot pickled out one of the multiple holiday albums and placed the needle on the track, filling the room with festive music.

“Well, before we do anything else,” Race’s oldest sister Gianna spoke up, standing from the sofa. “Tony, we all brought you some things. We figured, since it’s Christmas and we’ve all missed out on so many of them with you, we should make up for lost time.”Race immediately tried to shut her down, but once the rest of his family went to their things to collect gifts, he was completely out-numbered. Now alone on the floor, Race motioned for Spot to come sit beside him, patting the space on the floor beside him. Spot faked a groan and sat next to his boyfriend, both of them going to lean against each other as Race laid his head on Spot’s shoulder and Spot leaned his head on Race’s in turn.

They stayed like that for a while as Race’s family gave him their gifts, mostly books, house tools like pots and pans, and even a new pair of boots, before Spot reluctantly pulled himself from his position.

“Hey, what’re you-“

“Tony I’s got one more surprise for ya’,” Spot spoke with a teasing chuckle that made Race bury his face in his hands dramatically.

“ _Stronza_ , I said it this mornin’ and I’s gonna say it again, you’s gonna be the death a’ me,” Race teased back, turning to face his boyfriend, never faltering the smile on his face.

Spot chuckled a little, sticking his hand into his pocket as he held on tightly to the box.

“First, b’fore I’s start sayin’ anythin’, can somebody get ‘im a chair? This ain’t gonna work if I’s this much taller than you’s,” Spot joked, thanking Race’s older brother who pulled up a chair from the dining table for his brother to sit. Race perched his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his hands as Spot nervously fiddled with the box in his hand.

“Alright, I guess now’s as good a’ time as any,” Spot started, taking a deep breath and looking back at Race. “You’s known me long enough to know I ain’t good with words, let a long when I’s under pressure, so bare with me.”

Race giggled softly, rolling his eyes.

“ ‘Course.”

“Good, well, I’s about to get really sappy so here goes nothin’. Racer, I’s loved you for what feels like my whole life so far, n’ I want more than anythin’ to love you for the rest of it. I know it ain’t legal or nothin’ for us to be together, let alone get married or nothin’, but let’s jus’ pretend for a second that we could. I wish I could marry you b’cause you’s the first person I wanna see when I wake up in the mornin’ and the only one I wanna’ kiss goodnight. I wish I could marry you b’cause you’s the biggest idiot I’s ever met n’ I absolutely love you for it. I wish I could marry you b’cause I feel like everythin’ in my life has led me ta’ you. My choices, my regrets, everything, but earn we’s together, everythin’ in my past seems worth it b’cause I feel like if I’d done even one thing diff’rently, I might’ve never met you,” Spot gushed, finally, for once in his life, letting the tears filling his eyes finally fall. “I wish, from tha’ bottom a’ my heart, that I could marry you jus’ b’cause I never wanna stop makin’ memories wit’ you. I never knew what it was that was missin’ from my life until tha’ day you’s decided ta’ come ta’ Brooklyn n’ I say your face for tha’ first time, but then one day, maybe weeks later or maybe months later, I just knew. It was you. You’s the thing that was missing from me for so long, but now I’s got you and now I ain’t never letting you go.”

Spot took out the box from his pocket, sinking onto one knee in front of Race, who was practically sobbing at this point, only to make his hands fly up to his mouth and his tears fall faster.

“O-oh my god,” he mumbled out, staring wide-eyed at Spot.

“Tony, you’s the most amazin’ man I’s ever had the honor of knowin’. You’s stronger, kinder, smarter, and so much more beautiful than anyone else in this world, no matter what you’s ever thinkin’ of ya’self. I’s so goddamn lucky to be in love wit’ you n’ if we could I’d ask you ta’ marry me right now, but we can’t, so’s I gotta settle for jus’ askin’ you ta’ love me as long as you want to,” he finished, wiping the tears from his eyes before opening the box. “Antonio Higgins, tha’ only man I’s ever gonna love, will you be tha’ closest thing ta’ married wit’ me?”

Race just chuckled as he nodded over and over.

“Y-yes, yes, yes,  _merda santa_ , yes oh my god!”

Spot just took the ring from the box and took one of Race’s shaking hands, slipping it gently onto his fourth finger. He took Race’s hand brought it to his lips, and kissed right where the ring rested on his finger before leaning in to softly kiss his trembling lips. Race wrapped his arms around Spot’s shoulders, burying his face in the other boy’s shoulder as neither of them could stop smiling.

“I love you so much, baby,” Spot mumbled in his ear, blocking out all of the congratulations and cheers from Race’s family around them as they both just savored each other.

“I love you more than I could ever possibly find a way ta’ say ta’ you,” Race whispered back with the rawest, truest, and most genuine sense of contentment in his voice that it felt like everything that he thought had hurt him over the years was really just making him appreciate the most beautiful thing he’d ever experience. To love and be loved my someone was rare for the time. Most people married and dated people they didn’t love, just people others wanted them to. People were happy with their lives, but not because of that. There we’re far to many people in the world that were happy because they married rich, or that they could travel the world, or that they were successful in their job, but not enough people were satisfied with love.

To be rebellious with love was the most exciting adventure the two boys had and would ever go on together. Every healthy disregard for the law they ever had was simply training for this moment when they would promise each other that no matter what, they would never become the normal people of New York City. They would never be normal because they wanted to be happy for all the right reasons. They would never be like all the other people in New York because they would never want to be. They couldn’t be happy that way and if they couldn’t be together, then that life wasn’t worth living. It was as simple as that for the rest of their lives.

“I’m yours, always,” Spot murmured one last time into Race’s ear and the world that had momentarily stopped for them kept spinning. They were running the race of change faster than anyone else and this time it was a relay. Race had never run a relay, but they both knew that he was the fastest runner Manhattan had ever seen, so if they could go fast enough together, they could pass on their story to someone else, and then they would pass it onto someone else and maybe by the time someone reached the finish line, they would have sparked a change in the regular people of New York City. Maybe in a decade, or five, or fifty, or maybe not until a century later, the regular people of New York City would all start running beside them on the way to a change, and maybe if they had lived in a different time, they could’ve actually been married. Maybe they could be like the regular people couples of New York City.

Or maybe they just wouldn’t want to be.

**Author's Note:**

> i fucking did it. i can't believe i almost made it to 15k words for one chapter jfc. in case anyone's curious, the final word count was 14,861.
> 
> and that's it for this storyline! i do have a fic similar to this planned, but instead of it being race-centric, i eventually want to write something like this for spot since i teased a little at his backstory in previous chapters. if that's something anyone would like to read, let me know either in the comments here or on tumblr @tony-higgins !
> 
> here are the translations of all of the italian words and phrases used:  
> bambino - child/son/etc  
> amore mio - my love  
> voglio stare sempre con te - i always want to be with you  
> ehilà - hey there  
> sono tuo zio tony - i'm your uncle tony  
> meraviglioso di conoscerti, mie bellissime principessine - wonderful to meet you, my beautiful princesses  
> figlio di puttana - son of a bitch  
> stronza - asshole


End file.
